


An Adagio For Two (A Pas de Deux)

by CynSyn



Series: Shorts and One Shots [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Arguing, Aziraphale Rolls Up His Sleeves, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Ballet, Bickering, Choreographer Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Dancer Crowley (Good Omens), Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Gossip, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Musician Aziraphale (Good Omens), No Angst, Rumors, Sexy Times, Smut, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), please do not copy to other sites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynSyn/pseuds/CynSyn
Summary: Crowley is a famous dancer. Aziraphale is a renowned choreographer.Despite the fact that they're both divas, they somehow manage to fall for one another when working on the same project.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Shorts and One Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082246
Comments: 38
Kudos: 170
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20, Top Aziraphale Recs





	An Adagio For Two (A Pas de Deux)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foolishheadstronggirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foolishheadstronggirl/gifts).



> Scribbling Vaguely Downwards/Grow Better Holiday Swap 2020
> 
> One of the prompts I was given was a Fame AU where Crowley is a dancer and Aziraphale is a musician/choreographer. I didn't strictly follow Fame, but I took the basic concepts and ran with it.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it! I went a little over the word count limit, but it got away from me!

Crowley walked through the doors to the studio not quite knowing what to expect. His agent had gotten him the lead role in _The Ineffability of Rain_. Crowley was excited to discover that one of the choreographers was none other than Aziraphale Fell, renown in the dance community as one of the most talented and spectacular choreographers of all time. Everyone who worked with him went on to win awards for their performances, without exception.

Not much else was known about Aziraphale, though, other than a few of his quirks. His IMDB page had no images, and neither did his social media. It was all logos, or one specific image of a pair of hands on piano keys, complete with a gold signet pinky ring, which Crowley assumed to be some sort of stock photo. Everything else Crowley knew was word of mouth. Crowley had heard he tended to look like he stepped out of one of the old books he coveted so greatly. He had also been warned not to actually attempt to _touch_ any of the books he might see, lest he suffer the Wrath of Fell.

Crowley assumed it might have been a bit of hyperbole, as tended to happen when one achieved a certain amount of fame. He knew some of the horror stories that had been told about himself were blown entirely out of proportion, though sometimes that worked to his advantage. He tended to get his pick of projects, and he couldn’t remember the last rejection he got outside of simply not fitting the role itself. And even then, sometimes he still got the part if he simply asked for it.

Everyone wanted to sign Anthony J. Crowley, and Crowley liked it that way.

It made _sense_ that he should work with Aziraphale Fell.

As Crowley surveyed the room, he saw a man with platinum blonde hair and a beige coat looking through a stack of papers.

“I’m here to see Aziraphale Fell,” Crowley said as he stepped into the room.

The man turned to look at Crowley, offering a dazzling smile as he did so. “Ah, yes. That would be me. Hello.”

 _Oh, no,_ Crowley thought. _He’s hot._

“I suppose that makes you…” Aziraphale looked back down at his paperwork. “Anthony?”

“Y-yeah,” Crowley replied. “You can call me Crowley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Aziraphale said, extending his right hand.

 _So, it isn’t a stock photo after all,_ Crowley thought to himself as he reached out to shake hands, noticing the same gold signet ring on Aziraphale’s pinky as in his profile pictures.

“Shall we get started?”

Crowley nodded. “Right, of course. On to business, then.”

“Excellent. We can begin whenever you’re ready,” Aziraphale said, walking past the sound system towards the piano.

Crowley pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you want?”

“What I _want_ is to see what you can do. I want to see what you’re bringing in to determine what you need from me,” Aziraphale said, seating himself at the piano. “I want to see how you think on your feet, as it were.”

Crowley cocked his head to one side, a ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. “Right.”

“Begin,” Aziraphale said with quiet firmness as his fingers slid along the piano keys to Debussy’s Arabesque no 1. “Move your body to match my rhythm.”

“Piano? Really? There’s a stereo right there.”

“How astute of you,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley nodded an amused, but determined affirmation. “We’re going with classics over contemporary, I see. Color me _surprised_.”

Aziraphale, not missing a note, affixed him with a stoic gaze. “You’re here to dance for me, not impugn my musical selection.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Aziraphale stopped playing and folded his hands in his lap. “Thank you ever so much. Will that be all, then?”

“What?” Crowley asked, confusion evident across his face.

“There appears to have been some sort of miscommunication, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale explained with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You see, my purpose here is to evaluate your abilities and determine if I can hone them into what the production requires.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “Are you saying this is an _audition_?”

“Yes. Why would you think it wasn’t?”

“Er, uh, well,” Crowley sputtered, looking around while throwing his hands in the air. “I haven’t had to… I… I don’t… It’s been _years_ since my last audition. I either get the part or I don’t.”

“As I understand it, you _have_ the part. The audition is for your coach assignment.”

“My agent didn’t say _anything_ about this being an audition.”

Aziraphale, unaffected by the scene unfolding before him, maintained his polite smile. “Yes, well, thank you for coming. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He stood up, gathering his papers off of the piano to place inside of a manilla folder he then slid into an accordion satchel filled with similar folders. He flipped the flap closed and turned, extending his hand to Crowley once more. “Good luck to you.”

“Wait, no, just hang on a moment. Are you saying _no_? You’re not going to work with me?”

“I was here for your audition. You were not. I’m saying it was lovely meeting you, and wishing you luck in your future endeavors.”

“That’s just a fancier way to say no.”

“Agree to disagree,” Aziraphale said, arching an eyebrow slightly as he stepped towards the door.

“And now you’re going to leave, then, are you?”

“You didn’t come to audition. There’s no further reason for me to be here.”

“I’m supposed to dance in this show, and I’m going to need to know the choreography.”

“I’m not the only coach here. You’re free to work with anyone. This interaction doesn’t prevent you from being in the production.”

“I don’t _want_ to work with the other coaches. I chose _you_ because you know what you’re doing.”

Aziraphale regarded him with a condescending smirk. “And yet, you questioned my methods. Interesting.”

Crowley blinked. “We hadn’t even gotten to your methods yet. How are you supposed to teach me choreography while seated at a piano? I questioned your _music_.”

“Had you kept your thoughts to yourself, you would have discovered the reason behind it.”

“You have a sound system,” Crowley said, waving his arm towards the massive stereo along the wall.

“I have _standards_.”

Crowley groaned out a sigh. “Is it too late to start over?”

Aziraphale let out a frustrated sigh of his own. “That depends. Are you capable of listening and following directions without question?”

“Should I be honest, or should I tell you what you want to hear?”

Aziraphale began to turn around again.

“Wait, wait,” Crowley protested, rushing over to slide between Aziraphale and the door. “I’m sorry. I… My mouth gets me in a lot of trouble.”

Aziraphale’s eyes drifted down to Crowley’s lips momentarily. He couldn’t help noticing how lovely that troublesome mouth was. But that was neither here nor there. Aziraphale had a job to do… Possibly.

“I can follow directions,” Crowley continued. “I like direction. Big direction fan, me. But I don’t always know when I’ve gone too far asking questions until I’ve fallen into the thick of it.”

Aziraphale considered for a moment. “Do you _want_ to be here?”

“I do, yes. I _really_ do.”

“Are you willing to put the work into an audition?”

“I am. It took me by surprise, is all, but yes.”

“And the commentary?”

“I can’t promise that I won’t do that. It’s in my nature to question things. But I _can_ promise that even if I argue about it, I will do everything you tell me to do, barring anything I’m morally opposed to, of course.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale nodded. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even begin to entertain the idea of changing his mind once it had been made up. But under normal circumstances, he _also_ wouldn’t still be in the room giving someone a chance to make their case. Aziraphale was pleasant and kind, but he was also firm in his decision. He kept to a very strict schedule, albeit indecipherable to the average person, and any deviation in that was nigh unacceptable.

What was it about _this_ person that felt so different?

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, turning his gaze heavenward in an attempt to invoke the strength and understanding of a higher power. “Very well,” he said, walking back over to the piano. “I’ll give you another chance, but please understand that this is the exception. Whatever is decided here will be the answer, and I will brook no argument over that. Are we clear?”

Crowley let out a relieved breath with a broad smile. “Absolutely.”

 _Oh, no_ , Aziraphale thought as he took in the way Crowley’s eyes crinkled in the relaxed, open smile on his face. _He’s hot_.

At least Aziraphale had a better idea of what was so different now.

“Do you want me to…” Crowley’s voice trailed off as he gestured back towards the piano and the open area in front.

“Jolly good,” Aziraphale said, relieved for the distraction as he went to sit back down at the piano. “Yes, rather. Let me know when you’re ready, then.”

“Did you want me any certain way?” Crowley said, blushing slightly as he realized how his words might have sounded.

Aziraphale smiled, a hint of a flush across the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks rising as he did so. “No, thank you. For now, I just want to see how your body reacts.”

Something about that sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine. With a deep, cleansing breath, Crowley shook it off and took a few steps, loosening his shoulders and swaying his hips. “All right.”

“Begin,” Aziraphale said once again as he started to play, never taking his eyes off of Crowley. “Move your body to match my rhythm,” he said softly.

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment to get a feel for the music. He let it guide his body into several different steps that flowed together in tune with the notes from the piano. The music slowed down. Crowley, almost trance-like as he swayed from side to side, slowed down with it. He moved along to the cadence as it shifted back and forth.

The music transitioned to Arabesque no 2. Once he noticed the tempo picking back up, Crowley opened his eyes to see Aziraphale staring intently at him as he continued to play faster. Crowley moved quickly to match the pace.

 _Oh_ , Crowley thought, catching on to what was happening.

Aziraphale began to play even faster, quickly growing in intensity as each note came more rapidly than the last. Crowley’s heart began to race as he kept up, step for step, note for note, moving at a frenzied pace as Aziraphale’s rhythm built up to a feverish tempo.

With one final leap, the music stopped. Crowley stopped along with it, attempting to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said as he pulled his hands back from the piano keys. “How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly relaxed,” Crowley said with a laugh. “What about you? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I did, yes,” Aziraphale said with a crinkle of his nose and a quirk of his lip into a grin.

“Have you come to a decision, then?”

“I have,” Aziraphale said, tilting his head to the side with a coy smile. “I look forward to creating this arrangement with you.”

Over the next several weeks, they met up in the studio both for individual rehearsals as well as group work for the different scenes. As time marched on and there were fewer rehearsal days ahead than behind them on the schedule, there was a growing sense of dread.

Unbeknownst to either of them, they each were becoming more and more excited about rehearsals, their solo coaching days in particular.

Aziraphale watched in rapture as Crowley completed one of the routines they had been working on for the previous two weeks. He marveled at the way Crowley’s lithe, muscled legs flexed through each jeté. That in and of itself wasn’t what enraptured Aziraphale, however. It was nice, yes, and he would have been lying to himself if he tried to deny ever having thought about how those legs would feel wrapped around his waist or neck late at night, but no, that wasn’t the star of his attraction to Crowley. It was the look of determination on Crowley’s face while he practiced. Aziraphale had spent enough time working with Crowley by now that he knew the exact moment Crowley felt confident that he had the routine mastered. It was the moment his expression changed from determination to satisfaction.

Aziraphale wanted to be the reason Crowley was satisfied in many ways. Even if he couldn’t do anything else to satisfy him, Aziraphale at least got to have this moment, this precious gift of knowing they worked together and poured their hearts and souls into something bigger than, but entirely part of, the two of them.

“You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale said out loud without thinking.

Crowley’s head jerked up. “Beg pardon?”

“Your dancing,” Aziraphale replied quickly, swallowing dryly. “It’s beautiful. Your body is quite expressive.”

“Ngk.”

The two stared at one another briefly, flushing equally before turning to look in opposite directions.

“Thank you,” Crowley whispered.

“Jolly good,” Aziraphale said, somewhat awkwardly as he rubbed his hands together, walking towards the table to pick up the remote for the stereo. “Shall we continue?”

“Right,” Crowley agreed, clearing his throat.

The two had grown quite attached to one another. Though neither had come right out and said it, it was fairly evident to most anyone who saw them together. Rumors began to spread, eventually making their way towards Crowley and Aziraphale themselves.

Crowley walked into the rehearsal space carrying two cups, one cocoa and one coffee. A blast of heated air from the vent hit him in the face as he entered. He noticed Aziraphale was down to his rolled-up shirt-sleeves, no jacket or waistcoat.

“Did you enjoy our honeymoon?” Crowley asked, sitting down on the couch next to Aziraphale and handing him the cocoa.

Aziraphale laughed. “That depends. Where did we go on this one?”

“You know, I didn’t think to ask,” Crowley mused. “I heard about it on the way in. Someone was discussing it at the guard gate. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I stayed home to make children weep through my online gaming skills. I know you were visiting your brother in the US, but I didn’t feel it was my story to tell.”

“That was very kind of you.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. If this lot thought I were being _kind_ —”

“They’d keep talking as they have been?”

Crowley leaned his head back, exposing his throat as he barked out a laugh. “Probably so.”

Aziraphale took a sharp breath in through his nose, biting his bottom lip at the sight.

Crowley’s head lolled over to the side just in time to catch Aziraphale staring. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Aziraphale said, fanning himself as he moved to stand up. He walked over to move a few of the larger pieces of equipment from the previous group that had used the room away from the mirror and off to the side.

Crowley watched, fascinated by the way the muscles in Aziraphale’s forearms flexed with his shirt-sleeves rolled up. Crowley _liked_ Aziraphale’s arms. They were soft in all the right places, but sturdy. He loved the way it felt when Aziraphale stood behind him to move his body into the position he needed to be in to learn a routine. Sometimes, late at night, Crowley would imagine those arms wrapped around him in a different sort of dance.

“Crowley, are _you_ all right?” Aziraphale asked, a look of concern on his face.

“What?” Crowley asked, pressing his lips together and dimpling his cheek as he looked up at Aziraphale in confusion.

“It took a bit longer than usual to get your attention. I asked if you were ready to begin, but you simply sat there.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, sorry about that,” he said, standing up and brushing himself off nervously. “Y-yeah, let’s get started.”

Aziraphale nodded. “We’re going to be working on a new routine today,” Aziraphale said. His brows furrowed as he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. “It’s a bit warm in here, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed quietly. He briefly considered taking off a layer as well, especially if they were going to be working up a sweat otherwise, but thought better of it. The cold wintry weather had given him an excuse to wear oversized jumpers, which had been quite convenient, given that a leotard didn’t tend to hide much. He couldn’t think of anything more mortifying than an impromptu erection or twitch while _literally_ wrapped in the arms of one’s crush who was simply trying to do his job.

“I noticed you’ve been wearing those rather thick jumpers as of late,” Aziraphale said, “So I thought perhaps you might have been too cold. I tried to turn the heat up a bit before you got here, but the dial broke and now I can’t turn it back down. I asked if someone could come look at it, but the building manager said they can’t get anyone in until tomorrow.”

Crowley grimaced as he watched Aziraphale unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, fanning it out as he untucked it to reveal his V-neck vest beneath. _I brought this on myself_ , Crowley thought. _Once again, I am the victim of my own actions._ “Right. Thanks for thinking of me.”

Aziraphale smiled with a lift of his eyebrows. “It’s unfortunate that it managed to backfire so splendidly.”

Crowley laughed bitterly at the irony of it all. “That it _is_.”

“Shall we?” Aziraphale said, gesturing for Crowley to come over to where he was standing.

After a quarter hour, between working on getting the next steps right and the heat coming both from the vents and from Aziraphale, Crowley was near-sweltering in his jumper. In a fit of frustration, he tried to pull it over his head, only to get stuck.

“Wait,” Aziraphale said, rushing over to help. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Your jumper appears to be caught on your earrings. Be still. I’ll get you out.” He placed Crowley’s hands on his shoulders. “Hold onto me so you don’t get disoriented and fall.”

Crowley stood there, hands on shoulders and his face covered, while Aziraphale carefully unhooked the threads in the jumper from the many hoop and stud earrings Crowley was wearing. Aziraphale’s hands were so soft and gentle as they moved along his neck and face to lift the garment off. Crowley did his best to keep from shivering at the touch. They had been this close many times over, with Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around Crowley, but never face to face like this. Crowley gasped as the jumper was finally removed from his head, not realizing that he had been holding his breath the entire time. He looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, noticing how the pupils seemed to dilate as he watched.

Crowley knew what that meant, or at least, he _thought_ he did. It was a pretty good sign that Aziraphale at least found him attractive. The fact that they were still pressed together didn’t hurt either. Crowley looked down at Aziraphale’s lips, only to find when he looked back up that Aziraphale’s eyes had shifted downward as well.

Aziraphale’s tongue darted out quickly, wetting his bottom lip. The faint sheen of perspiration along his forehead and the way his face grew more flush was about to drive Crowley over the edge.

Crowley closed his eyes, his hands sliding down Aziraphale’s shoulders to squeeze along his upper arms. “You are _so_ fucking _gorgeo_ —”

Aziraphale pushed forward, silencing Crowley’s words as their lips met. One hand cupped Crowley’s face as Aziraphale slid the other around Crowley’s waist to pull him closer.

“You taste of sin,” Aziraphale whispered between presses of lip against lip.

“You taste of chocolate.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Here I am,” Crowley replied, leaning forward to kiss Aziraphale again. He snaked his arms up around Aziraphale’s neck, carding his fingers through platinum curls. He gasped, breaking free of the kiss as he felt himself being lifted, sat upon the barre, and pressed against the mirror behind them.

“Relax,” Aziraphale said, lips dragging up along Crowley’s throat. “These mirrors have no glass.”

“But the—”

Crowley’s words were cut off by his grunt as Aziraphale lifted one of Crowley’s legs to position himself between them. “The barre will support you,” Aziraphale said, nipping at Crowley’s jaw, “Though I don’t intend to put you back down until I’m ready.”

“You’ve thought this through, then, have you?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Admittedly, only just now, but don’t worry. You’re safe,” he whispered against Crowley’s ear. “I’ve got you.” He leaned his head back just enough to look into Crowley’s eyes. “And now I’m going to _have_ you.”

“Ngk,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale chuckled, pressing his grin against Crowley’s needful lips as they parted to invite him in.

The pair stood, in a manner of speaking, grinding together against the mirror. Crowley’s legs were wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist as the two moved together, gently, but urgently.

Aziraphale pulled back just enough to grin at Crowley while pushing his hips forward sharply.

“ _Fuck_ me,” Crowley gasped involuntarily.

“I _intend_ to,” Aziraphale growled out a chuckle, lips pressed against the pulse of Crowley’s neck. “But not here. Another group will be in the studio within the hour.”

“Mine or yours? My car is outside. Give you a lift, anywhere you want to go.”

“Yours is closer,” Aziraphale said, helping Crowley down from the barre.

“You know where I live?” Crowley asked, teasingly.

“I suppose I must do,” Aziraphale looked away, blushing as he buttoned up and tucked in his shirt. “No point in denying that now.”

“Do we need to leave separately so people won’t speculate, or how do you want to do this?”

“People have been speculating for weeks now,” Aziraphale laughed. “It doesn’t bother me, unless you’d rather not risk it.”

“I really don’t care. I just want to get you alone.”

“Agreed,” Aziraphale said, packing his satchel. “But we need to make a stop at the chemist first for a few items.”

“Everything all right?” Crowley asked, concerned.

“Well, unless you happen to _already_ have the necessary items…”

Crowley rolled his eyes at himself for not realizing what Aziraphale meant. “Right, right, no, of course. No, I don’t have anything at home. We’ll stop along the way.”

As requested, Crowley stopped by the chemist so Aziraphale could pop in.

“Did you find what you needed?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale got back into the car.

“I did,” Aziraphale grinned, rummaging around in the bag. He pulled out a foil-wrapped packet.

Crowley snorted. “That’s a tea bag.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes, and it’s _vital_. I know you don’t care for Earl Grey, but I do. But I also bought condoms.”

Crowley started the engine, shaking his head with a shrug and a laugh.

It was already dark by the time they got to Crowley’s flat. After showing Aziraphale around, the two found themselves standing in Crowley’s bedroom, uncertain of how to proceed.

“It’s… This is all a bit more awkward now, isn’t it?” Crowley asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the floor.

“It is a _bit_ awkward, yes,” Aziraphale agreed.

“It was all so much simpler in the studio. All swelling strings and hazy light, like something out of a film.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side, “It has been my general observation that television and movies tend to skip a lot of the steps to let the viewer get wrapped up in a moment.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. In reality, there’s far more work involved in getting the steps just right,” Aziraphale said, scooting in closer. He reached out, placing a gentle hand beneath Crowley’s chin to tilt it up. “It’s not unlike your dancing. Your body _knows_ what it wants to do, but it needs a steady hand and a clear path to get there.”

Crowley shivered slightly as he looked down at Aziraphale through half-lidded eyes. He licked his lips, waiting for his cue.

“Begin,” Aziraphale said with quiet firmness as he leaned in towards Crowley. “Move your body to match my rhythm.”

Crowley breathed out a shaky, but determined affirmation.

“Do you need me to show you the way I want you to move?” Aziraphale asked, his voice low as he stepped in behind Crowley, sliding his arms around him. They turned towards the full-length mirror along the wall. “Do you do a lot of _practicing_ in here?” Aziraphale asked, sliding his hands up beneath Crowley’s jumper to pull it off of him.

“That depends on what you mean by practice,” Crowley replied, leaning his head back against Aziraphale’s shoulder to watch as his hands roamed his chest in the mirror.

“What’s the difference?” Aziraphale asked.

“I don’t dance in here,” Crowley replied.

A grin spread across Aziraphale’s face. “Then what _do_ you do in here?”

“I…” Crowley’s voice trailed off.

“Do you touch yourself, Crowley?”

Crowley nodded.

“Good. I’m glad to know that. I do, too,” Aziraphale said quietly against Crowley’s ear. “And I think about you. Do you think about me, too?”

Crowley nodded, closing his eyes to enjoy the way Aziraphale’s hands were moving along his body. He opened his eyes in time to watch those strong hands slip beneath his leotard to slide it down, exposing the freckled skin beneath the black fabric.

“Good,” Aziraphale said, placing a soft kiss along Crowley’s shoulder. “Show me.”

“What?” Crowley gasped.

“You heard me correctly. I want you to lie down on the bed and _show_ me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

“What about you?” Crowley asked. “I’d rather touch you.”

“I’ve got to get undressed. I can do that while you get started. Do as I say, please.”

“Oh,” Crowley said before climbing onto the bed to position himself in the center. He laid down on his back, knees up, looking up at Aziraphale as he did so. Tentatively, he reached to take his own hardening cock in hand while Aziraphale begin to unbutton buttons.

“Go slowly,” Aziraphale warned. “I want to enjoy this.”

Crowley began to stroke as he watched layer upon layer being removed. Crowley did as he had been instructed, moving his body before Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled. “You take my directions so well, my dear. I’m quite pleased by you. I hope you know this.”

Crowley closed his eyes and smiled, basking in the praise. It was strange, Crowley thought, how easy it was to do this once he began. He had spent the last several weeks moving his body at Aziraphale’s command, after all. This might have been far more intimate than in the studio, but essentially, the dynamic was the same.

Crowley felt a dip in the mattress at his feet. He opened his eyes to see Aziraphale kneeling on the bed between his legs, pouring a bit of lube into his hand to warm it.

“Keep going,” Aziraphale said, leaning over to press a kiss against the inside of Crowley’s knee. “I’m going to get you ready, is that all right?”

“Yeah,” Crowley whispered, biting his lip as he lifted his hips a bit.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, gently sliding a slick finger to massage Crowley’s entrance.

Crowley allowed himself to get lost in the sensation of Aziraphale opening him up, almost too distracted to hear Aziraphale speaking to him.

“You’re doing so well for me, Crowley. Is this how you imagined it?” Aziraphale asked. “Because having you right here in front of me, being able to touch you the way I’ve wanted to for so long,” Aziraphale huffed out a fond laugh. “It’s so much better than I imagined.”

Crowley smiled, opening his legs further. He watched as Aziraphale opened the condom, put it on, and carefully positioned himself over Crowley.

“Are you ready for me?” Aziraphale asked, lining up the head of his cock.

Crowley lifted his legs to wrap around Aziraphale’s waist. “Yeah.”

Crowley’s eyes closed and his back arched at the sensation of Aziraphale pressing into him. It had been far too long, he thought, since someone made him feel this good. Not that it had ever been _this_ good before.

Slowly, almost agonizingly so, Aziraphale leaned down against Crowley as he pushed in as deeply as their bodies would allow. He growled against Crowley’s ear, “You feel incredible. I could live inside of you like this and be happy to do so.”

Crowley opened his eyes, running his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, gripping it and turning his head to bring their lips together. Crowley licked into his mouth to match the rhythm set by Aziraphale’s thrusts. The two moved in concert, wrapped around one another as they built up to a crescendo.

“I could very easily fall in love with you,” Aziraphale gasped out as he continued to fuck into Crowley with more fervor.

Crowley, who had already fallen for Aziraphale long before, felt a rushing surge of passion at the words. He shifted, flipping them over to put Aziraphale on his back while Crowley climbed on top to straddle him. He sat up, taking Aziraphale’s hands to put them on his own cock, so painfully hard and already leaking, as he worked his hips, squeezing Aziraphale between his legs as only someone with the leg muscles of a dancer could. He reached down to caress Aziraphale’s face. “Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he said. “Well, you’re always beautiful, but _especially_ now, between my legs.”

Aziraphale looked up with a smirk, bucking up into him. He grabbed Crowley’s hip with one hand and stroked his hard cock with the other. Aziraphale delighted in the surprised gasp drawn out of Crowley’s throat by his actions, followed by an even bolder flex of Crowley’s hips as he leaned down over Aziraphale, his long hair dragging across Aziraphale’s chest.

Aziraphale could feel Crowley tensing. “Are you ready to come, Crowley?”

Legs trembling, Crowley leaned back, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip as he nodded his affirmation. Crowley cried out with a twist of Aziraphale’s fist around his cock.

“Come for me,” Aziraphale’s voice rumbled out. “Come for me, and no one else.”

Crowley fell forward, his mouth seeking out Aziraphale’s. A hot wave of pleasure spasmed throughout his body as he came.

Aziraphale moaned into Crowley’s mouth as he felt him constricting around his cock. It only took a few more thrusts before Aziraphale came, wrapping his arms tightly around the satiated and content creature laying on top of him.

After quite a bit of cuddling, soft touches, and tender kisses, Aziraphale spoke. “How do you feel?”

“Relaxed,” Crowley said with a satisfied laugh. “What about you? Did you get what you wanted?”

“I did, yes,” Aziraphale said with a crinkle of his nose and a grin. “I got you.”


End file.
